Addicted
by J.D. Cunegan
Summary: Post-8x02 multi-chapter: Kate Beckett made her decision. Richard Castle is left to pick up the pieces. Can she get the closure she needs while still keeping her husband safe? Will he take her back? Will she survive long enough to make it back to him? Heavy on the angst.
1. Chapter 1: In the Dark

_**Author's Note: Just what I need, another multi-chapter fic. But seeing as how the humor in season 8 is doing nothing for me (if you're gonna give me angst, go all the way with it), here's my attempt at a post-8x02 fic. It starts in the immediate aftermath of Kate's decision. Spoilers for season 8. Enjoy!**_

* * *

The clock read 3:15. In the morning.

The red numbers on the alarm clock by Castle's bed taunted him in the darkness. Exhausted though he was, Castle couldn't get his eyes to shut. Sleep was far more elusive than it had been in years. The urge to write wasn't keeping him up, nor was the mind-numbing blockage that once led him to kill off Derrick Storm.

No, this… the empty spot on the bed to his right was the source of consternation. Actually, consternation wasn't the right word. Confusion. Anger. Hurt. Feeling like he had been blindsided by an out-of-control 18-wheeler. And on top of it all, a sense of déjà vu to which he dared not give voice.

Because that would make it real. Richard Castle couldn't handle real at the moment.

His stomach churned every time he caught sight of the silver band on his left ring finger, yet Castle couldn't bring himself to take it off. He still couldn't tell anyone, if they had asked, exactly what had happened. Less than a day earlier, he had been filled with nothing but relief and gratitude - both over the fact that his wife was back home safe and from the fact that she had promised him no more secrets.

Not even twenty-four hours.

Not even twenty-four hours before his wife packed a bag, stared at him with tears in her eyes, and spouted some vague nonsense about needing to be by herself. Why? No telling, she didn't say. She asked him if he trusted her, then kissed him and walked out the door.

Castle sat up, kicking off the sheets that had been bunched up over his feet. A faint burnt smell still lingered in his loft, the result of a smorelette long forgotten the second his wife sprung this surprise on him. He hadn't fixed anything else to eat since, too bitter and too emotionally ragged to even think about food.

What changed? What happened in the hours since their reunion in that airplane hangar? How did they get from _no more secrets_ to her walking out the door?

Roughly thirty-six hours ago, Castle thought the worst thing he would have to endure was no longer accompanying his wife to the Twelfth Precinct. Shadowing a captain would have been far different than shadowing a detective, and despite his obvious bond with everyone at the precinct, there was no real need for him there now that Kate Beckett was the one in the fishbowl office.

Still, her promotion had been cause for celebration; this was the next step in her journey - one Castle had unwittingly foretold in the just-released _Driving Heat_. And for the first time, he wondered to himself if perhaps that was to be the last Nikki Heat book. Critical acclaim hadn't been as boisterous for this book as it had been for the others, and if his inspiration had up and left…

Castle scrubbed a hand over his face. Yeah, that conversation with Gina would be fun.

Pushing himself out of bed - and officially giving up on the thought of sleep for the rest of the night - Castle padded into his office. Distancing himself from her scent, which still lingered on his sheets, did nothing for his mood. If anything, his mood worsened as the minutes crept along; normally, he would mask it with humor, an outgoing childishness that disarmed people.

But in his solitude, there were no jokes. No quips or wild theories or toys. Just a suffocating silence and a mind that kept screaming _Why?!_

That one question had fueled much of Castle's career; because ultimately, that was what his books examined. Why people did the terrible things they did. That philosophy had only strengthened in the years he had spent shadowing Kate, seeing real-world murders and their all-too-real implications.

What drove people to do what they did… out of all of life's mysteries, that was the one Castle relied on the most. But it wasn't nearly as fun now that he - now that _his marriage_ \- was the mystery.

He once quipped that Kate Beckett was a mystery he was never going to solve, but in recent months, Castle had allowed himself to think that he had done a fairly good job. He still didn't know everything there was to know, but their closeness and her openness - in light of finally solving her mother's murder and the drama of his own disappearance - made him think there wasn't much mystery left.

But now… once again, that bastard's words echoed in his brain.

 _You come in here all on fire about your wife, you don't even know who she is._

 _Sixteen years, Kate Beckett has been obsessed with solving her mother's murder. You really think she can turn off that kind of obsession?_

 _I'm saying, she's never going to be happy_ just _being Mrs. Castle._

 _She needs to tilt at windmills. It's in her DNA._

 _Like a moth to a flame._

Castle was sitting at his desk by this point, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He downed the bitter liquid in one gulp, hissing as it slithered down his throat before chucking the glass across the room. It landed with a _thud_ on the thick carpeting, but the release was momentarily cathartic. Such outbursts were rare, and for Castle to have one, it had to be something serious.

He was glad the loft was otherwise empty; the last thing he needed right now was to try explaining to his daughter or his mother what had just happened. Not just because it was still so painful - he could feel the pressure on his chest - but because he wasn't sure he could find the words to explain it all.

 _He_ didn't even know what had just happened.

From his chair, Castle peered out into the foyer. The front door was still open; he hadn't touched it since she left. He had briefly considered going after her, his heart crumbling when he heard a choked sob from the other side of the wall, yet he never moved. Not until he heard the elevator ping to announce her departure from the floor.

She said she loved him. She asked him to forgive her. She never once explained what she was doing or where she was going, but her fingers ghosted over the stubble on his cheeks with the same tenderness she gave in the morning when they were still wrapped up in each other in his bed.

Her lips had the same taste of love and coffee and cherries that he adored. Her eyes, even when full of tears, held as much love for Castle as he had ever seen. And yet… she walked out on him.

She opened that door and she left.

Castle hadn't been this confused since the day Kyra left. With Meredith, there was infidelity. With Gina, there was… well, Castle could say the passion had died, but that assumed there had been any passion in the first place. But this… how could Kate Beckett claim to love him and then turn her back on him?

Unless…

No.

No, that can't be it.

His wife did _not_ just choose the rabbit hole over him. Not again.

But that was the only explanation that made sense. There was no way she could go from _shut up and kiss me_ to _forgive me_ in less than a day. As plot twists went, it was pretty damn steep. Then again, Castle was more emotionally invested in this story than any book he had ever read. This blindsided him in all the worst possible ways, but now that he had at least some of his druthers…

Okay, so Kate wasn't running away from him. But why would she run off to tackle whatever she was tackling by herself? Hadn't she learned over the past six years or so that they were better off together?

 _She needs to tilt at windmills._

 _It's in her DNA._

It was a shame William Bracken was dead, because Castle had the sudden urge to have a conversation with his fists and the disgraced Senator's face. Castle was probably one of the least violent people on the planet, but when it came to the people he loved, he was capable of far more than most people expected.

Not that beating Bracken to a pulp would bring back his wife. But if nothing else, the release was welcome.

Pushing himself from his desk, and ignoring the empty glass now on his bedroom floor, Castle grabbed his keys and his coat. What he needed to do couldn't be done here at the loft, and if his theory was correct, then he probably wasn't safe much of anywhere. Not like his destination was any safer, considering the near-shootout that transpired earlier that day, but it didn't smell of his wife, so there was that.

 _Like a moth to a flame._

 _And we all know what happens to the moth in the end._

* * *

 _Somewhere…_

"Are you sure about this?"

No, she really wasn't.

Fact was, Kate Beckett wasn't sure of a lot of things anymore. What was supposed to be her first day in charge of the Twelfth Precinct - her first day as Ryan and Espo's boss - had turned into her running for her life, nursing yet another gunshot wound, and wishing like hell she could run to her husband.

Instead, she ran away from him. All because the blood of five federal agents was on her hands, and she couldn't stomach the thought of adding to it. She didn't even want Vikram Singh - the man whose phone call started this whole mess - involved in this, but he was as stubborn as her on this. Rachel McCord and the others had been colleagues of his, just as much as Kate, and he was determined to see this through.

Briefly, her determination faltered. It always did when she caught sight of the ring on her hand.

"Kate," Vikram prodded. "You can still back out. I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"That's because you don't know me," she said with a crack in her voice. She kept her back to Vikram, because she didn't want him seeing the tears brimming in her eyes. If he saw how this was gutting her, he would insist even further to tackle this on his own. But that would get him killed, and she was tired of people dying because of William H. Bracken.

Or that partner of his.

"With all due respect, Kate… this isn't your fight."

"The hell it isn't!" Her voice quivered, but the ferocity in Kate's eyes never wavered. Even as a tear ran down her cheek and the finger she pointed at Vikram shook. "Rachel, Hendricks… all of them are dead because of _me_."

"You couldn't have known –"

"I should've," she argued. "I should've known that one little search would come back to haunt me."

"So let the feds handle it." Vikram was pretty insistent in playing the Devil's Advocate card.

"I can't." Kate began to pace, folding her arms over herself, in part to hide the wedding ring that had been taunting her since she left the loft. Her fingers brushed over her side, catching on her scar under her black turtleneck. She hissed in pain. "I just… I thought this was over. I thought slapping the cuffs on Bracken put an end to this."

"It did," Vikram countered. "You solved your mother's murder. The rest of this? It's not your problem. It is so above your clearance, your pay grade… you are going to be so in over your head on this…"

Kate frowned and stepped toward Vikram. "What are you saying?"

Vikram put his hands up in front of himself in a defensive and conciliatory gesture. "I'm saying… you're worried about whether or not your husband's gonna take you back after this? If you're not careful, he won't have a chance to make that decision."

"Do you know how many near-death experiences I've had over the years?"

 _Yeah, and just about all of them were with him by your side_ , the little voice in her head argued - a voice that had not shut up once since she walked out that door and tried to keep from breaking down in the hallway.

"And how many more can you have before your luck runs out?"

Kate dipped her head and bit her lip. Really, what could she say to that? As much as she dreaded the thought of living her life without her husband - honestly, the thought turned her stomach - the idea of Castle living his life without her wasn't much better. If anything, that was worse, because then she would've inflicted the sort of pain on him that she had battled for so many years after her mother's death.

This was a textbook case of every option being terrible, and Kate was left with picking the one she thought was the least bad. As heartbreaking as it was, as much as she shattered at the look in his eyes, walking out on him was the only thing she could think to do that wouldn't immediately put him in the crosshairs.

This was her fight. Not his.

 _If you have a problem, we have a problem. That's how this works._

This wasn't about trust. She trusted Richard Castle with her life, as much as she trusted her partners at the Twelfth, if not more so. But whoever was pulling the strings on this had killed five federal agents and a disgraced Senator in a maximum-security prison without so much as a sweat. The last thing she wanted was her husband in the crosshairs.

So if she had to break his heart to save his life, so be it. God willing, she would glue the pieces back together herself when this was all over. If he'd let her.

"Look, Kate." Vikram shook his head. "I'll back your play, no matter what you decide. But if you're in this, you have to be all the way in. You can't waiver. All in or all out. Anything in between, and your husband will be planning your funeral."

Kate almost doubled over at the words, choking back the sob that had threatened to escape from the moment she left Castle's building. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, trying desperately to reign in the swirling emotions. She was so much better at controlling her feelings when her hair was short and choppy and red.

Standing upright again, Kate sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes. Training her stare on Vikram, her hands balls into fists. She didn't want to do this; everything in her screamed for her to back out, go back home, and beg her husband for forgiveness.

But she couldn't back out. Not now.

"Then let's make sure he doesn't have to."


	2. Chapter 2: Incognito

_**Author's Note: No weird smelling ladies, I promise.**_

* * *

 _The next morning…_

Kate Beckett hadn't even bothered trying to sleep the previous night, her emotions too raw for her to even think about it. So following her last rendezvous with Vikram, she did the only thing she knew: she returned to the Twelfth Precinct and holed herself up in her office. But seeing as how the sun was rising, and her detectives would be in soon, she dropped and closed the blinds looking out over the bullpen.

It was the closest thing she had to privacy for the moment, but it would have to do. Unfortunately, her newfound duties as Captain couldn't be put on pause for her personal vendetta. Not like her marriage.

That thought made Kate slump over her desk, the taste of bile burning in the back of her throat. She had cried her eyes out after leaving Vikram, so much so that she had to pull off to the side of the road before making it back to the precinct. Her eyes still stung with emotion, and they began welling again.

No.

She was not going to break down at work.

As it was, the boys would likely know something was up. The bags under her eyes, the fact that her outfit and hair weren't quite as "on-point" as usual - to borrow a phrase from Detective Esposito. Her current frame of mind, and the precinct's dimly-lit locker room, were to blame for that, but Kate knew she couldn't hide forever. Especially with a meeting with One PP later that afternoon.

An actual meeting with One PP, not something she came up with on the fly to keep her husband from asking questions.

Her husband… could she call him that anymore? She still wore the silver band on her finger, as if to convince herself that she was fighting to return to something. But what if there was nothing to return to? What if she had done irreparable harm to that? What if, in the process of asking Castle to trust her, she made sure he never could again?

Her free hand almost reached for the iPhone sitting on her desk. It was practically instinct, a habit so engrained in her over the years. _Call Castle_. Even though it wasn't even seven in the morning yet, and she guessed he had as much trouble sleeping as her, Kate stopped herself just short of grabbing the device.

Would he even pick up? What would she say if he did?

Vulcan Simmons' mugshot scowled at her, but she wasn't as focused on it as she should've been. A _New York Times_ expose' detailing Simmons' connection to former Senator Bracken's SuperPAC was trapped under the mugshot, revealing nothing Kate didn't already know. But if this investigation was to be successful - if she was to bring down Bracken's partner and even have a chance at reconciling with Castle - she had to start from the beginning.

Technically, her mother's murder was the beginning, but the Simmons connection was the first time Kate remembered Bracken being in cahoots with anyone of note. Prior to that, Bracken had appeared to be the proverbial lone wolf, hiring out expendable muscle and assassins on his own whim to satisfy his needs.

Simmons obviously wasn't the partner - unless he had pulled off the world's greatest fake death - but he seemed like as good a place as any to start.

Vikram's tech savvy was what had led them down this road; for lack of a better term, he had hacked into the NYPD's Narcotics database - despite Kate telling him she had her own Narcotics expert who could offer the needed intel - and discovered the signature Simmons used on his drugs.

He was now looking to see if drugs with that signature were still in circulation. A bit of a longshot, but if Vulcan Simmons was connected as he sometimes boasted, it would make sense someone was still pushing his product in his absence.

And in hindsight, not seeking Ryan's help was prudent; that was one less person who needed to know what she and Vikram were really doing. As it was, she was dreading the conversation she knew she'd eventually be having with the boys about why her husband was now nowhere around and why she wouldn't be going back home every night.

They weren't going to like this. And Lanie might actually smack her.

The black watch on Kate's wrist caught her eye. She still had a few hours before she had to be at One PP, to go over the maddening work of arrest data and the like. The minutia of running a police station was, for the first time, interfering with her crusade for justice. Some part of Kate wondered if that was a sign, the world's way of telling her she was making a mistake.

Maybe that state Senate run wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Kate's frown deepened when she stared at the watch. Her father's, given to her once he had finally sobered up. She had worn it every day she could since, desperate to cling to the life she saved while still wallowing in the one she had lost. He had battled his demons - still was to this day, he would admit - and she hadn't conquered hers.

Not like she thought.

Biting back a fresh wave of emotion, Kate pulled the watch from her wrist and let her thumb graze over the surface of it. Tears were building in her eyes again, and this time there was no stopping them. One tear fell and landed on the face of the watch before Kate pulled open one of her desk drawers.

Burying her face in her hands, and letting herself give in to the pain again, Kate shook her head. She didn't deserve to wear that watch right now. She didn't deserve to wear a mark of "victory" over addiction, not when she was knee-deep in her own personal rabbit hole again. Part of her wondered if she had ever gotten out of that hole, or if it only felt that way because she was in it by herself for the first time in years.

Even if that was the case, she still deserved to be punished - because she was the one who made sure this was a solitary endeavor. If Richard Castle hated her for this, she deserved it and would accept it, because that meant he would be alive to hate her. She could live with that far easier than she could live with him dying because of something she did.

In the depths of her despair, Kate hadn't noticed when the door to her office opened. Nor did she notice when one of her detectives cleared his throat.

It wasn't until a shadow crept over her desk, signaling the presence of someone standing right over her, did Kate sniffle and look up. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Detective Esposito standing before her, a couple days' stubble on his cheeks. He had bags under his eyes, too, but likely for a far different reason than her.

"Uh… Captain?"

Kate sank back into her chair, pursing her lips and swallowing back another sob that wanted to push free. She swiped at her right cheek as nonchalantly as she could, even though she knew her boys would see clear past the charade.

Detective Ryan had kept by the door, his brow creased in a mix of confusion and concern. "Everything alright, Beckett?"

Esposito threw a glance over his shoulder - because really, asking someone if everything was alright when they were in tears wasn't the smartest move – before the annoyance left his face and he regarded his new boss with the same scrutiny.

She hated it. Hated feeling under the microscope like this. Why couldn't it be one of the other detectives in her office, one who didn't know her quite as well?

"What's going on?" she deflected. "You're in early."

"We've got a body," Esposito explained. "Found him in the woods, impaled against a tree. Our vic was wearing an orange jumper."

Kate frowned, the tear streak on her left cheek all too noticeable against the rising sun peering through the blinds. "Escaped convict?"

"That's the theory," Ryan said slowly. "We're checking all correctional facilities for any escapees matching our vic's description. He's on Lanie's slab now."

"Good." Kate sat up, picking up her pen and moving a manila folder so it covered up the newspaper article and the mugshot. She hoped beyond hope neither of the boys had seen it; the last thing she needed was them getting involved in this. "Keep me posted."

But neither detective was leaving. In fact, Ryan had joined his partner by her desk.

Keeping her head down, hair framing her face as she pretended to tackle a stack of paperwork that was far too big for her liking, Kate pursed her lips again. "Something on your mind?"

"What's wrong with you?" There was more bite to Esposito's tone than she liked.

"Yeah, Captain," Ryan added. "I know you don't like paperwork, but come on… it can't be that bad."

Dropping her pen and pushing herself away from her desk, Kate shrugged. "I left."

The boys watched with scrunched brows as Kate walked past them, grabbing her white mug with the block K on the side as she made a beeline for the break room. They followed her, exchanging confused glances before they stopped in the doorway, seeing her reach not for the fancy espresso machine but the pot of black coffee.

Esposito's hands curled into fists when he saw pouring her mug full. "What do you mean, you left?"

"I walked out," Kate explained.

Ryan chewed on his lower lip with a frown. "Why?"

Kate approached the doorway in hopes of getting back to her office, but the two detectives blocked her way. They both stood with their arms folded over their chests, and the look Esposito gave her wasn't much different than the look he had given her years before when she was with Demming and Castle was on his way out.

She hated that look.

"What?"

"You walked out," Esposito repeated. "On Castle?"

"It's complicated" was all Kate would give them.

"Now what on Earth could Castle have done," Esposito cocked his head to the side, "that would make you walk out on him? Especially after he had just gotten you back?"

"It's not him," she admitted with a shake of her head.

"He was with us," Ryan said. "When we found those bodies in that theater. He found your bracelet in a pool of blood. Beckett, it was like when 3XK took you all over again."

The bile rising in her throat again, Kate clenched her jaw and walked back to the sink. She poured the contents of her mug into the sink and slammed the mug against the surface of the counter so hard she thought it might crack. The detectives stood in place, and she hated the matching scowls they were throwing her way.

Mostly because she couldn't really blame them for it.

"Don't you two have a murder to solve?" she snapped.

She expected at least Esposito to say something to that, but the boys just glared at each other before turning and leaving the break room. Once they were back at their respective desks, placing phone calls and working on their computers, Kate stared at the discarded coffee in the sink.

Her lower lip quivered, and before she could think to do otherwise, Kate tossed the mug across the break room, letting herself drop to her knees when the ceramic shattered against the soda machine.

* * *

 _Outside…_

For the first time, Richard Castle realized he didn't own any inconspicuous vehicles. They were all flashy in their own ways - none more so than the Ferrari - but that was befitting of the charismatic man-child the world saw at book parties and signings and other public events that Black Pawn occasionally required him to attend.

But for tailing someone, for being sneaky, he didn't have anything that fit the bill. Still, his silver Mercedes would have to do until the rent-a-car places started opening up and he could rent something less noticeable.

Probably a navy blue Taurus.

He was parked a block and a half away from the Twelfth Precinct, an uneaten bagel and a lukewarm travel mug of coffee at his side. Though Castle's stomach growled - it had been almost twelve full hours since he had last eaten - he ignored what his body was telling him. After a quick stop the previous night to his renovated P.I. office, Castle had begun tailing his wife as best he could - starting with the airplane hangar in which they had been reunited.

He glanced at the phone cradled in one of the drink carriers. One missed call. Alexis, probably wondering where her father was and why a few things from his desk at the office were missing. He thought of calling her, but thought better of it; he didn't want to explain what was going on to her.

Not yet.

Not ever, if he could help it. Alexis had accepted Kate as part of the family, fully and without reservation, and as much as it gutted Castle to have her walk out on him, part of him shuddered to think how that would potentially damage his daughter's relationship with his wife. So for now, silence was the order of the day.

But to keep Alexis from calling the cops about stolen items, he grabbed the phone and shot her a quick text, saying he had taken a few things for a case he working on.

Nice and generic.

A phone call to the number Hayley Shipton had provided went straight to voicemail. Of course she would be out of reach. That woman seemed to come and go as she pleased, despite her immediate rapport with Alexis and her help in tracking down where Kate had gone on what was supposed to be her first day as Captain.

So it would appear Castle was on his own on this. Fortunately, his wife was somewhat predictable. He hadn't found her at the hangar, but he had found the man she had been with. Vikram Singh, he remembered her saying his name was, and Castle couldn't help but wonder why he had returned to the hangar.

Not that Castle was able to ask Vikram, as he had lost the other man after leaving the hangar. Castle's tailing skills apparently needed some work.

Castle adjusted the black headphones covering his ears, turning up the volume on his laptop. Sneaking into Kate's office in the middle of the night had been more of a chore than he had hoped, coming down to bribing one of the officers on night watch with a Twix bar from the vending machine, but he had managed to slip the tiny listening device under the trunk of one of the ceramic elephants behind his wife's desk.

His wife's desk. His wife… his…

Was she still his wife?

He had heard the boys mention a new case, and he almost let his instinctual curiosity about that get the better of him. Solving murders with the boys would have felt like old times, in a sense, but Castle had his eyes set on a much larger mystery - that of just what the hell Kate Beckett was up to, and why she felt the need to walk out on him to do it.

The sound of a door slamming shut jolted Castle, so much so that the headphones almost fell off his head. He placed them back over his ears again in time to hear the squeak of her chair and a ragged sigh pushing from her lips. It was the sound she always made after she'd had a good, hard cry, and despite the anger and confusion, Castle's heart broke for her.

Whatever this was, it was torturing her.

Part of Castle liked that - but he immediately hated himself for it.

If Castle's hunch was right, there was something she didn't want him knowing. And not in the same sense that Meredith hadn't wanted him to know about the director who spent time in his bed back when they were still married. This was clearly something bigger, something so big he couldn't be a part of it.

Assuming, of course, that Castle was right. But he had to be… he couldn't have possibly done anything to sabotage their marriage in the hours since their reunion, had he?

She wasn't mad when she walked out. She was in tears. She was apologetic.

She had asked for forgiveness.

But why?

The buzz of her iPhone against the desk filled Castle's ears, and he turned the volume up even more as she answered it.

 _Beckett._

 _Yeah. What'd you find?_

The silence stretched on for far longer than Castle liked. He wanted to know who she was talking to and what they were discussing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just the boys checking in about the case. Maybe he had been wrong.

Maybe there was no grand reasoning to all of this. Maybe he was just watching yet another marriage disintegrate in front of his eyes.

 _You're sure?_

 _Look… I don't like you being out there by yourself without resources or protection. We have a temporary opening here at the precinct. Our video tech is on extended leave to deal with a family illness. Take the job, Vikram._

The sound of that man's name caught Castle's attention. He immediately reached for a pad of paper and pen that were sitting next to his bagel. He jotted the name and several relevant notes so quickly that he wondered if he would be able to read them later.

 _You'll have NYPD resources at your disposal, and I'll be able to watch your back._

Another sigh, this one less ragged than the last.

 _Yes, I'm sure. You can back out if you want, but I have to see this through._

The call ended on that note, and Castle shed the headphones before reaching for his phone and thumb-tapping a quick text to his daughter. She hadn't replied to the last one, but that wasn't of consequence at the moment.

 _Vikram Singh – what do we know?_


	3. Chapter 3: Head-On

_**Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between posts; between my day job and working on the manuscript for my second novel, things have been a bit hairy of late. Enjoy!**_

* * *

 _Richard Castle Investigations…_

No sooner did Richard Castle push through the front door of his newly-renovated private eye office - a business expense he would likely spend the next several years paying off, though it was so worth it - a redheaded whirlwind of questions came at him with a speed and ferocity he hadn't expected.

"Dad, what's going on?"

"Why are we looking into this Vikram guy?"

"Where's Beckett?"

"What happened?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's not okay, is it?"

"Dad?"

" _Dad!_ "

It wasn't until Castle got to his desk, fingers already a blur over the keyboard of his laptop, that his daughter's voice finally registered. He looked up to find her standing opposite him, her striking blue eyes wide with confusion and possibly a little bit of panic. He had purposefully kept Alexis in the dark since the previous night, though that was more for his own benefit than hers. Talking to someone, telling someone, about his wife walking out on him would make it all too real and bring emotions to the surface that were better left buried for the moment.

He couldn't figure out what the hell Kate Beckett was messed up in if he was too busy wallowing in his own self-pity or trying to play the part of the class clown.

But Alexis Castle was very much her father's daughter - all the way down to her insistence in figuring things out. She wasn't quite as stubborn about it as Castle, but then again, that innate curiosity hadn't netted her more than twenty bestsellers and the Poe's Pen Career Achievement Award.

Still, he knew there was no more side-stepping her. Not when she was standing in front of him.

"Dad," Alexis tried again. "What's going on?"

Castle's shoulders slumped with a sigh, and for the first time since leaving the loft at some ungodly morning hour, he felt the exhaustion. He hadn't slept in almost two days by this point, having run himself ragged to figure out where his wife had gone and why her bracelet had been found in a pool of her own blood. Everything from there had been a whirlwind worthy of one of his novels, and he had foolishly expected things to return to normal when he and Kate returned from the precinct the previous night.

Yeah, about that…

Scrubbing a hand over his face - a reminder that he also hadn't shaved in a couple days - Castle shook his head. "Beckett left last night."

The redhead's brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "What?"

"She packed a bag and left." Castle gave a one-shoulder shrug, hoping to try for nonchalance and confusion. The longer he told himself it was because of a case, the longer he could hold the hurt at bay. This wasn't the case of another woman in his life deciding he was no longer good enough for her; no, this was a mystery. Something he could investigate. Something he could _solve_.

"Why would Beckett do that?" Alexis asked, incredulous and maybe even a little bit angry. "Why would we bail on you the second you get her back?"

"We find out who Vikram Singh really is," he offered, "maybe we'll find out."

"You think this is some case?" Alexis asked, and Castle couldn't help but notice that his daughter's hands were now balled into fists. He had asked her not to get involved two days earlier when he was trying to figure out where Kate went, and his heart had soared when Alexis came back with _Beckett's family_.

He hoped beyond hope that was still the case. Assuming Kate ever came back.

"It has to be." He launched himself from his chair and pulled on a volume of Edgar Allen Poe sitting on the bookshelf. When the shelf opened to reveal a brightly-lit secret room, Castle head-nodded toward it before stepping across and waiting for his daughter. When Alexis joined him in that room, the passageway slid shut.

"Not twenty-four hours ago, my wife stood right out there and promised me _no more secrets_ ," he explained, barely keeping the emotion out of his voice. "Then she packs a bag and runs off to who knows where, tears in her eyes and a plea for forgiveness on her lips."

"Like she was off to work something she didn't want you involved in."

"Maybe." Castle shook his head. "But she could've just told me I couldn't be a part of it."

The redhead arched a brow. "And when has that ever stopped you?"

"Fair point." Castle brushed that off with a hand wave. "I've been tailing Beckett since last night. She met with Vikram in some abandoned warehouse, and just this morning, I overheard her on the phone with him, offering him a job as a video tech at the precinct."

"Well, he's unemployed now," Alexis offered. "Seeing as how his whole team got murdered."

"That's assuming his story of working with Agent McCord on the AG team is legit," Castle countered. "I'm not sure I buy that."

"Dad, this isn't the time for one of your crazy theories."

"Isn't it?" Castle shrugged. "It seems awful convenient that he would just show up one day and know how to get a hold of Beckett like that. He wasn't on the team when she was there."

Alexis shrugged. "Protocol."

"Maybe." Castle shook his head and began pacing back and forth. "Or maybe he's involved in whatever it is Beckett doesn't want me in on, and he's getting close to her for a reason."

"Do you think she's a target?"

"I'd be surprised if she wasn't." Castle sat down in one of the lounge chairs, raking his fingers through his hair. "This thing that had her on the run before… it killed five federal agents, and then it killed Senator Bracken."

"Not to mention shooting up the precinct," Alexis added, sitting next to her father. "You really think this is all connected?"

Castle shook his head. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

Alexis studied her father for a quiet moment, noting not just the way his shoulders were hunched, but the bags under his eyes and the way his hair was out of sorts. He seldom left the loft looking like this, and she wondered just how long he had been running like this. Chasing after his wife, only to have her slip out of his grasp again not even a day after she came back… Alexis would be lying if she didn't admit to some anger toward her stepmother, but if things were as convoluted as Castle suggested… how mad could she honestly be?

"Are you okay?"

Castle sighed, opening his mouth only to have no words come out. He glanced at his daughter and faked a smile as best he could - though it looked more like a grimace - and he shook his head.

"I will be when I get my wife back."

* * *

 _The Twelfth…_

As it turned out, the murder victim Ryan and Esposito were investigating wasn't an escaped inmate but a college student. Kate Beckett had to admit her curiosity was threatening to get the best of her, and it was practically her nature to dive into the investigation and her hands dirty. That was going to be one of the hardest habits for her to break now that she was captain - far too much paperwork, far too many meetings at One Police Plaza, not enough actual police work.

For a brief moment, she wondered why she decided to become captain. For that matter, she wondered if she was making any of the right decisions lately. The boys weren't talking to her outside of case updates, where they spoke to her in overly formal, clipped tones, and when she tried to get an update on the corpse from Lanie, she was met with one of _those_ stares and another threat of _girl, Imma smack you_.

Lanie sounded serious this time, too.

Every part of Kate's brain was screaming for her to bury her nose in this new case, figure out why a college student was dressed up like an inmate and what he had been doing on the run in the woods. But she was at her desk, an ignored cup of tea - she had given up on trying coffee - to her left and everything she had on Vulcan Simmons splayed out in front of her.

She felt guilty pulling strings with Narcotics to get this information, and she felt even worse for leading them to believe this was for an active case. Vulcan Simmons was dead - hard to forget a murder when one was falsely accused of committing it - yet his drug empire had to still be in operation, and maybe that was the key to tracking down LokSat.

But it wouldn't be that easy, would it?

Whatever this was got five federal agents killed and offed a disgraced Senator who had been holed up in a maximum security prison. The ease with which they had killed Bracken was what unnerved Kate the most, and was what had her most convinced that the less everyone knew - her husband included - the better.

 _You're a big girl. Dive down the rabbit hole if you must. But think twice about who you bring with you. Because unlike McCord and her team, anybody who dies now? That blood is on you._

She disagreed with Rita - who, now that she thought about it, had been conspicuously absent since that late-night warning. McCord's blood was on Kate's hands. As was Hendrix's. As was everyone else she used to call colleague and friend from her brief time in Washington, D.C. She couldn't stand the thought of having anyone else's blood on her hands: not her friends, not her family… certainly not her husband.

Let him hate her if he must. Just so long as he was alive to make that choice.

When she wasn't burying her nose in minutia and evidence that she had already studied to the point where her eyes crossed and a dull throb formed in her temples, Kate had been mentally replaying the last two days. The abrupt phone call, the shootout at the theater, being on the run… stitching up her own gunshot wound.

Just what she needed: another scar.

Rita saving them from another shootout and certain death. Her decree that they had to disappear, to leave their lives for good in order to guarantee safety. Kate's outright refusal. _I'm sure as hell not going to let someone chase me away from the life I've worked so hard to create._

Only she was doing just that.

But Rita has specifically mentioned Simmons and the drug money that had funneled into Bracken's SuperPAC. If what Rita had told them was true, if this mystery partner had used CIA resources to secure the product and protect both Bracken and Simmons from the blowback… this was like the mafia ransom scheme all over again, just on a bigger scale.

Johanna Beckett and three others died because they discovered intel they weren't supposed to have with regards to Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery's scheme. Now, people were dead because Kate had poked around on a federal database and eventually triggered hit relating to LokSat.

The need for truth - _for justice_ \- kept getting people killed, and yet… Kate couldn't make herself stop.

Kate tossed her pen onto the desk and buried her face in her hands.

What would Roy think of all this?

 _We speak for the dead. That's the job. We are all they've got, once the wicked rob them of their voices. We owe them that. But we don't owe them our lives._

 _I've spent most of my life walking behind this badge and I can tell you this for a fact: there are no victories. There's only the battle. And the best that you can hope for is that you find someplace where you can make your stand._

Then again, Montgomery had blood on his hands, keeping quiet for so long about his own duplicity that by the time he finally came clean, everything had already gone sideways. And in his last-ditch efforts to keep Kate safe, Roy robbed a woman of her husband and two children of their father.

To say nothing of the fact that Montgomery had been far more of a mentor to Kate than anyone else in the NYPD. Even more so than Michael Royce, even more so than Victoria Gates.

Without Roy Montgomery, Kate probably never would've made it to Homicide. Now she sat in the chair he once occupied, dealing with the same bullshit he dealt with on a daily basis, and trying desperately to honor his wisdom without succumbing to the same mistakes. People died because of something Montgomery did years ago. Now people were dead because of something Kate did, and she needed to make sure the bodies stopped dropping.

If that meant falling down the proverbial rabbit hole, so be it.

Turning to the shelf situated behind her desk, Kate ran her fingers through her hair before trailing a finger along the trunk of one of the ceramic elephants. The memory of her slain mother never completely left her, but before this LokSat mess started, she had finally made peace with the residual pain - the fact that she would never be free of it, even after arresting the man who orchestrated the whole thing.

But being shot - again - and staring the man who ordered the hit in the eye - again - brought back feelings Kate thought long ago dealt with. For a brief moment, she considered giving Dr. Burke a call, but she couldn't adequately explain what she was feeling without divulging what was really going on, and doing that would endanger her therapist just as much as it would endanger her friends or her husband.

So Kate was alone in this. On a proverbial island. Vikram was her only outlet.

Behind all of the pictures and the mementos and the knick-knacks, there was a hand-crafted wooden armoire. Setting aside the elephants and a signed baseball her father had given her - Mets star David Wright's illegible scrawl between the red seams - Kate opened the doors of the armoire and paused.

Front and center was a head shot of Rachel McCord, and the back of the left door was scattered with random notes relating to the "car accident" that killed her and the other members of the team. Above those notes was a yellow Post-It with _LokSat?_ written in permanent marker.

With a sigh, Kate returned to her desk, grabbing the _New York Times_ story about Simmons' connection to Senator Bracken and taping it to the back of the armoire's right-side door. Then, she grabbed another Post-It and scribbled _CIA mystery partner - protected both_.

Then, after taking a moment to squeeze her eyes shut and stem the tide of emotion that had already burst through the dam a few times that day, she shut the armoire and secured it with her own personal padlock. Turning back to her desk, Kate cringed when her iPhone buzzed against the wooden surface.

Expecting it to be Castle, she cringed when instead the name _Jim Beckett_ came up on the screen.

Swiping her thumb over _Ignore_ , Kate swallowed the lump in her throat as she opened the messaging app to type out a quick text to her father instead. _Can't talk now - in a meeting._

What was originally a lie changed when Kate's phone buzzed again.

 _Found something. Meet now._


	4. Chapter 4: Blindsided

_**Author's Note: Posted for #CastleFanficMonday.**_

 _ **Sorry for the delay between posts; between work and three novels in various stages of development, I lost track of my fics. But I'm back! And my second novel, BLOOD TIES, is available for pre-order on Amazon - out on January 5! Enjoy!**_

* * *

The abandoned warehouse was the last place Kate Beckett wanted to be, and Vikram Singh was the last person she wanted to see. But after receiving the text from him, she had to meet up with him if she hoped to put LokSat behind her once and for all. The sooner she put this case behind her, the sooner she had a chance of returning to her normal life.

At least, that was her hope. As she shut the door to her car and locked it remotely, Kate couldn't ignore the doubt gnawing at her gut, the persistent voice telling her there would be nothing waiting for her when she was done with this.

But that couldn't be right, could it? Would Richard Castle really turn her away?

If he did, could she blame him?

In the seven years they had known each other, he had shown remarkable patience and at times surprising restraint. He waited almost four years for her to realize and admit her feelings for him, even if it took him leaving and her almost dying. Was that where she was now? Was Kate so far down the rabbit hole that it now became a one-or-the-other game?

She slammed the rotted door behind her. She hated the question, but not as much as she hated the potential answer. Kate was tempted to turn back, to tell Vikram to take this investigation and shove it before groveling to her husband for forgiveness. But that wasn't her. Kate was never one to back out of an investigation before it was over – especially one as personal as this.

Every time Kate almost backed out, she remembered Rachel McCord. They weren't partners for long, but they had been friends. And as far as Kate was concerned, Rachel and the others were dead because of her.

If nothing else, she owed them.

But God, how it tore her up inside. Two days since she walked out of that loft, and Kate could still see the hurt and anger in her husband's eyes. Every time Kate closed her eyes, that vision was as clear as when it happened. She hadn't had coffee since, the taste like acid on her tongue. In a lot of ways, Kate felt the way she did back when she first met Castle: driven but empty.

And it was all her fault.

"This better be good," she said by way of greeting, deciding in the moment that her anger was better off pointed at Vikram than herself.

If her ire bothered the bearded man, he didn't let it show. "Vulcan Simmons' drug ring is still active."

Kate stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"

"Well, active again is probably more accurate." Vikram rose from his seat at a makehisft command center. Three black flatscreens surrounded him, far more advanced than anything she had at the Twelfth. "It went dormant following Simmons' murder and Bracken's arrest, but two weeks ago, heroin carrying Simmons' signature began showing up in the city again."

Kate snatched the manila folder out of Vikram's hands. "Why am I just now hearing about this?"

"Because even Narcotics didn't catch wind of it until yesterday." Vikram cocked his head to the side. "They haven't made the connection yet."

"But you have."

"I'm very good at what I do," Vikram added rather cryptically, peering at Kate through bushy eyebrows. "Now, before you rake me over the coals for abusing police resources –"

"No," Kate interrupted. "Though abusing resources is what got me in this mess in the first place."

"I have a contact with the FBI," Vikram continued as if Kate had never said anything, "who tells me they've seen the same signature in D.C. They didn't think anything of it at first, but once I contacted them and floated the name Vulcan Simmons…"

"That's good work," Kate muttered while thumbing through the folder. "You sure you're not an investigator?"

"As exhausting as it was just to get that?" Vikram shook his head.

"Don't suppose your FBI buddy gave you a name?"

"Not yet," Vikram admitted. "But he will."

"Then why drag me out of the office?" Kate shot back, dropping the folder onto the floor. "Didn't it occur to you that I might be busy? That in order to drag me from the precinct, you should have something better?"

"Better?" Vikram frowned. "What's better than knowing we're on the right track?"

"Catching the son of a bitch and ending this!" Kate yelled in return, her voice echoing off the dark walls.

The echo soon faded, leaving both Kate and Vikram standing in front of each other in an awkward silence. Kate dipped her head, strands of hair framing her face as her hands again curled into fists. She was _not_ going to start crying again. Certainly not here, and certainly not in front of Vikram.

"Look," Vikram offered. "You can still back out."

"You don't know me," she spat through gritted teeth. "Otherwise, you wouldn't say that."

"I know this is killing you," he countered. "Even in here, I can see the circles under your eyes. You're not sleeping, are you? Probably not eating that great, either. You're still wearing your wedding ring. You took ten minutes longer to get here than yesterday."

Kate feigned annoyance. "It's New York. I got stuck in traffic."

Vikram shook his head. "You hesitated when you got my message. So again… if you want out, this is your chance. I can continue this investigation on my own, and you can return to your precinct and your husband."

Kate arched a disbelieving brow. "You? Take down LokSat? All by yourself?"

"It's not ideal," Vikram said with a shrug. "But I owe Rachel and the others that much."

"So do I," Kate argued.

Before Kate could react, Vikram grabbed her left wrist and slipped the silver band from her ring finger. No sooner did he pocket the ring, Kate slugged him across the nose with her right fist, dropping him to the concrete floor.

"Next time you call," Kate spat, "it better be to tell me you found LokSat."

Vikram was still pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking out the cobwebs as Kate stormed out of the warehouse and slammed the door shut behind her.

* * *

 _Outside…_

Richard Castle supposed he should feel some sort of vindication, some sense of pride that his theory about Kate's behavior had been on the mark. But knowing his wife the way he did was of little consolation; at this point, whatever confusion and heartbreak Castle felt was slowly being replaced with a low-burning anger.

Every word of Kate's conversation with Vikram played in Castle's ears – thanks to the bug he had Hayley plant in the warehouse earlier that day. She was proving far more resourceful than he had expected, and the way she had gotten along with Alexis was an added benefit. Alexis was short on friends lately, and Hayley was apparently filling the bill nicely.

But his wife was up to her old tricks. She was investigating a dangerous conspiracy. Without him. She was shutting him out, choosing instead to move out of their home and cavort with a man none of them had ever heard of until three days ago.

 _Partners in crime and in life_ …

Didn't she know they were always better together? Why wouldn't she trust Castle with this?

For seven years, he had worked cases with her. Big cases, small cases. Random murders. A plot to destroy Manhattan with a dirty bomb. He helped her solve her mother's murder. He had been by her side, every step of the way, proving his worth over and over again. What he lacked in official training, he made up for in reliability and intelligence.

So what changed?

Vikram had even given her a way out, allowed her one more chance to back away and return to her life. A life that she had been building with Castle, a life they were so eager to embark on together. A family was going to be in the offing, once Kate had settled into her new role, and Castle couldn't properly articulate how excited that had made him.

But now… he didn't know what to think.

The door burst open, and Castle saw his wife rushing through the threshold and back into her car. Peering through his binoculars, Castle saw her hunch over the steering wheel, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth agape. She was sobbing, probably not for the first time that day, and even in his anger, the sight broke Castle's heart.

Every instinct screamed at Castle to emerge from his car and go to her. Pull her into his arms, let her release everything onto his shoulder. But he couldn't – not just because it would blow his cover, but because he didn't know what to think at the moment. What would he do once the tears dried? What would he say?

Once her tears began to subside, Kate massaged the knuckles of her right hand, and Castle thought he could see that her left hand no longer had his ring on it. Another flash of anger briefly overwhelmed the writer, but the sound of Kate cranking her engine and peeling off into the night snapped him back into the moment.

He watched the tail lights fade into the distance, swallowing once they disappeared. Tossing the binoculars into the passenger's seat, Castle set his jaw and stared at the warehouse.

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Castle had an idea. Like most of his ideas, it was impulsive, not at all thought out. It was probably, in all honesty, rather stupid.

But at this point, he didn't much care.

Without a second thought, Castle shoved his phone into the glove compartment before pushing his way out of the car. He paused ever so briefly, grabbing the door handle and staring at the warehouse. Was Vikram still in there? And if he was, was he prepared in the event someone unwelcome stumbled upon his makeshift abode? The last thing Castle needed was to be held at gunpoint, but he also needed answers.

Because as clear as things were now, he was still confused.

Castle slammed the door shut, the sound masking the cocking of a gun. But Castle felt the cold press of metal against the base of his skull before he could start walking, his heart skipping a beat. Swallowing back his dread, thick in his throat, Castle rose his arms.

A bead of sweat trickled down his right temple.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," an unfamiliar female voice warned from over Castle's shoulder. He sucked in a quick breath when he felt the barrel of the gun press harder into the back of his neck.

"You gonna shoot me if I do?"

"I'm not the one you need to fear," the voice countered, before pulling open the back-seat door and stuffing Castle into it.

By the time Castle gathered his bearings, he saw a woman he didn't recognize, dressed entirely in black and smirking at the writer. Small wisps of red hair poked out of the black toboggan on top of her head. She pointed her gun at Castle through the window.

"Who are you?" Castle asked.

"The person who's gonna save your life," the woman answered before pocketing her gun and producing a pair of handcuffs from behind. She reached in and slapped the cuffs on Castle's wrists before patting his cheek with an unnerving smile.

Castle watched as the woman slipped into the driver's seat. Like a dummy, Castle had left his keys in the ignition, and he cursed himself when the engine roared to life and the car sped off into the night.

"By the way," she called out over her shoulder, "Jackson sends his best."


	5. Chapter 5: Desperate

_**Author's Note: Once again... this fic is not an outlet for your frustrations with season 8 or the canon storyline. This fic is not the place for you to assassinate characters or call them names. Those "reviews" will be moderated out. If you wish to review this fic, feel free to do so. But whining about canon or calling Beckett names is not a review.**_

 _ **Now, with that said... enjoy!**_

* * *

 _Richard Castle Investigations…_

This was the first time Alexis Castle had gone an entire night without sleeping since the fall semester of her freshman year at Columbia. Then, it was an all-nighter to cram for a final in a class she had far too much trouble with. This time, it was because of an all too familiar sinking feeling in her gut, a certainty that her worst nightmare was playing out in front of her eyes again.

Not quite a year and a half ago, her father had disappeared. On his wedding day, no less. The oddity of the story behind his disappearance aside, Alexis had gone two months without her father. Two months of wondering where he was, whether he was still alive. She had tried to stay brave during that time, put on a strong face for her grandmother and for Kate Beckett, but the fear had been a constant companion.

Now, after her father hadn't checked in from his little recon trip the previous night – a recon trip she had argued against, by the way – that quivering uncertainty threatened to return. Every time his phone went straight to voicemail, the panic in the back of Alexis' head only grew louder.

She frantically paced back and forth behind her father's desk at the PI office, snaking her fingers through her red hair. Maybe if she kept them occupied, they wouldn't shake so badly.

"Come on, Dad," she muttered to herself when her call, again, went straight to voicemail.

 _Hi, you've reached Richard Castle. I'm unable to come to by phone right now –_

Cutting off the machine, Alexis plopped herself into the black leather swivel chair with an exhausted sigh. She rested her forehead in both hands, squeezing her eyes shut. This couldn't be happening again. It just couldn't. Where could her father be? She knew him spying on Vikram on his own was a bad idea. Why couldn't he have listened?

Because it involved Beckett, that was why.

Every instinct told Alexis to call Kate, to reach out to her stepmother and let her know that Castle was in trouble. Maybe it would be the kick in the pants Kate needed to work through whatever had driven them apart these last few days.

Logically, Alexis knew that whatever had driven Kate away had to have been serious. But seeing the hurt in her father's eyes, even when he tried to mask it with determination, made logic a hard thing to hold onto.

No. Calling Kate would be a last resort. Maybe Detectives Ryan and Esposito could –

"Oh, dear," a soft British voice cut through the fog. "Is this a bad time?"

Looking up, Alexis sucked in a deep breath to steel herself, offering a tired, fake smile as Hayley strut her way into the office, dropping the black duffel bag that had fallen from her shoulder to the floor. Alexis shook her head and tried to smooth her hair.

"Hayley," she tried for nonchalance. "Thought you were back in England."

"I would be, except your airlines here are shit," Hayley shot back with a sideways grin, one that fell away when she saw how disheveled the redhead was. "What's wrong?"

Alexis' first instinct was to hold back, to not tell Hayley what was going on. But Hayley had not only proven useful in their last case, she had made sure to keep Castle safe while he was out on a wild goose chase for his wife. And if nothing else, Hayley was someone relatively close to Alexis' age that she connected with – something she was finding less and less of now that she was in her senior year at Columbia and spending much of her free time at the PI office.

That, and something told Alexis that Hayley would know if she was lying.

"It's my dad," she admitted with a sigh, sinking deeper into the chair. "I don't know where he is."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Hayley slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and stepped deeper into the office until she was standing just on the other side of the desk. "What's he up to now?"

"He was tailing Vikram," Alexis explained, rising from her seat and crossing to the other side of the desk. Now that she had someone she could explain the situation to, her panic was slowly morphing into a plan of action. Granted, telling Hayley the situation wasn't much of a plan, but it beat the redhead sulking in her father's office not know what to do next.

"The tech from the AG's office?" Hayley frowned. "The one who'd been on the run with Beckett?"

"Same one," Alexis confirmed. "The other night, after they found Allison Hyde murdered, Beckett left."

"Left," Hayley repeated.

"Left the loft. Left my dad." Alexis shook her head.

At that, Hayley's eyes grew large. " _What?_ " Her frown deepened. "But I thought…"

"So did I." Alexis leaned back against the edge of the desk, folding her arms over her chest. "Obviously, there's something deeper going on here. Dad thinks she ran off to investigate something without him."

"And he thinks Vikram has something to do with it."

"He's convinced of it."

Heading back to the entrance and kneeling in front of the duffel bag, Hayley produced an overstuffed manila folder before returning to the redhead and holding it out for her. Hayley bit back a smirk when she saw Alexis frown in confusion, nodding toward the folder. "Your father's not wrong."

Alexis grabbed the folder. "What…?"

"Ever since we found Beckett and Vikram in that hangar," Hayley explained, "I've been looking into him. Frankly, I think his story's just a little too neat."

Flipping through the contents of the folder, without really taking them in, Alexis arched a brow. "You think he's playing Beckett."

"I think he has to be damn convincing in proving that he's not."

"Alright." Alexis tossed the folder onto the desk. "What about my dad?"

Hayley crossed to the other side of the desk, plunking herself into the spacious chair before pulling open the laptop. Once it booted up, she stared intently at the screen, her long, thin fingers practically a blur working over the keyboard. "Your father is resourceful and intelligent, if not a bit reckless."

Alexis smirked. "Tell me something I don't know."

"He's also on his own on this." Hayley stopped typing. "If this is as bad as I think, his devotion to Beckett just might get him killed."

* * *

 _Somewhere…_

"Where are we going?"

Castle's question was met with silence. The redhead at the wheel hadn't said a word to him since dropping the line about his father. That name sent a chill down Castle's spine, and not in a good way.

By Castle's estimation, they had been on the road for almost an hour. They were outside of the city proper by this point – not that they were in the heart of the metropolis when she picked him up outside of the warehouse where Vikram and Kate had been meeting. But they were even further away from the city now, and Castle thought – not for the first time – that this was probably how he was going to die.

"How do you know my father?"

More silence.

"Are you tailing Vikram Singh?"

Nothing.

"Are you tailing my wife?"

The car screeched to a halt so suddenly that Castle nearly bumped his forehead against the back of the passenger's seat. By the time he gathered his bearings, the woman was staring right at him with a clenched jaw.

"Your wife doesn't know when to leave well enough alone."

"So you know what she's doing."

The redhead shook her head. "She's ignoring my advice, is what she's doing. I told her to forget it all, to go home and enjoy her life with you."

"Forget what?" Castle asked. "LokSat?"

Something on the redhead's face shifted, but Castle couldn't really tell what her expression was – especially with how dark it was. "How do you know about that?"

"It's what had Beckett on the run, isn't it?" Castle sat up straighter. "It's what got her old AG team killed. What had Vikram calling her on what was supposed to her first day as captain of the Twelfth."

And the first day of the rest of their lives, cliché as the thought was.

"I should send you home," the redhead muttered with a shake of her head. "But you already know too much. Even if you backed off now, they'd still come for you."

"Who?" Castle arched a brow. "Who would come for me? The same people who are after my wife? The people behind LokSat? Vikram?"

The redhead shook her head again. "You're awfully desperate."

"My wife walked out on me," Castle spat back, leaning in closer. "She left me with tears in her eyes to go chase after this thing, and now I don't know where she is, or whether she's working with someone who's actually in on this. So yeah, I'm pretty damn desperate!"

"Your desperation will get you killed."

"You sound just like my father."

"He told me you were stubborn," the redhead said with a wistful grin on her face. "I had no idea just how stubborn you really are."

Castle forced open the back door on the driver's side with the sole of his shoe before climbing out of the car and kicking the door shut behind him. "Then maybe you should ask him about Paris."

The writer turned to walk away, not even taking the time to gather his bearings. Castle would figure out where he was going later; right now, he needed to get as far from the mysterious redhead as possible. His hands being cuffed behind his back didn't even bother him at this point. All Castle wanted to do was get out of here and find his wife again.

The sound of a gun cocking froze him in his tracks.

"Richard Edgar Alexander Rodgers Castle, I _will_ shoot if you keep walking," the redhead called out. "Don't make me turn Kate Beckett into a widow."

Setting his jaw, and just about at his wit's end at this point, Castle turned on the balls of his feet and marched back toward the car. By the time he reached the driver's side window, the redhead had withdrawn her gun and appraised him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. But Castle stood his ground, straightening his posture.

"Fine," he conceded. "But if you're gonna be keeping me company, I need some answers."

With a shrug, the redhead nodded once.

"First of all… who the hell are you?"

"You can call me Rita," she answered. "I'm your stepmother."

* * *

 _The Twelfth…_

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Alexis asked, looking over her shoulder as she followed Hayley out of the elevator and onto the Homicide floor. Much to the redhead's relief, neither Detective Esposito nor Detective Ryan were there at the moment, and the captain's office was dark and the door was closed.

"Of course it will," Hayley said she pulled a hairpin and needle from her back pocket, glancing over her shoulder once they reached the door to the captain's office. She worked her magic with the two implements, grinning when she heard that _click_ and the door crept open. "I've broken into far more secure places with far less equipment."

Alexis crept into the office behind Hayley, again glancing over her shoulder. "Not sure if I should find that comforting or disturbing."

"Alexis, we're fine," Hayley promised. "The boys are out working a case, and Beckett just started a meeting with the brass at One PP five minutes ago. We've got plenty of time."

Just as well, Alexis hung back toward the door, stealing the occasional glance through the blinds to make sure no one was looking their way. LT and a few of the other officers were animatedly discussing the past weekend's football game, and the detectives who were on the floor were all hunched at their desk, paying the pair in Captain Beckett's office no mind.

Yet Alexis couldn't shake the nerves, couldn't get her heartbeat under control. The panic set in just a little bit more when she looked over and saw Hayley sitting at Beckett's desk, typing away on the desktop.

"What are you doing?!" she hissed. "I thought we were just bugging the place!"

"We are," Hayley assured. "And that includes her digital footprint."

At that moment, the elevator dinged to signal that someone else was coming onto the Homicide floor. Alexis peered through the crack in the blinds to see Kate Beckett stepping off of the elevator. Her eyes grew wide and the redhead cursed under her breath before turning back to Hayley.

"Beckett's coming!"

Hayley frowned, but her fingers never stopped. "What?"

"Beckett is coming!" Alexis approached the desk. "She just stepped off the elevator and she's coming here and we are _screwed!_ "

"Hide!"

Alexis blinked. "What?"

" _Hide!_ "

Alexis barely had time to slip under the couch on the opposite end of the office before Beckett pushed the door open, her brow already furrowed at the fact that the door was ajar. The confusion mixed with anger, though, when she saw Hayley Shipton sitting at her desk, boots propped up on the surface and her hands clasped together on the back of her head.

"What the –?" Kate shook her head. "Hayley, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Just the person I wanted to see, Captain." Hayley pushed herself away from the desk and approached Kate, arching a brow when she briefly caught sight of Kate's left hand. "I would like to file a complaint against the incredibly rude security staff at JFK. They wouldn't let me board my flight back to London, and they tried to insinuate that I would blow the place up."

Kate arched a disbelieving brow. "And you couldn't just file the complaint there?"

"What's the point in having friends in high places if I can't call them up for favors every once in a while?" Hayley's shit-eating grin only grew when Kate's eyes narrowed.

"You can't just break into my office like that," she argued.

"Oh, please," Hayley shot back with a smirk. "You should be used to impulsive and impatient behavior by now. I mean, after all, look at your husband. Any idea where he is, by chance?"

Was it a low blow? Sure, but Hayley needed to see what kind of reaction she would get by bringing up Castle like this. And judging by the way Kate ducked her head and chewed on her lower lip, suddenly finding some random spot on the floor more interesting than Hayley, she had exactly what she needed.

"Can we not talk about my husband, please?" Kate pleaded.

"Well, now that you've said that, I feel obligated to at least ask what's going on."

"Nothing," Kate persisted before her shoulders relaxed. "I mean… nothing you need to concern yourself with." She glanced at her watch with a cringe. "Great, I'm late for another meeting. I trust you'll see yourself out?"

As soon as Kate left the office, shutting the door behind her, the smile on Hayley's face fell. She stared at the door, watching the blinds swing as Alexis crawled out from under the couch, smoothing down her black skirt and huffing a breath of relief.

"That was close," she muttered, casting a sideways glance at Hayley.

"She's upset."

"Well, yeah." Alexis shrugged. "You broke into her office."

"Not that." Hayley's gaze narrowed. "Whatever it is that's keeping her from your father. It's breaking her heart."

"How can you tell?"

"When I mentioned him," Hayley explained, deciding to leave out the detail of Kate no longer wearing her wedding ring. "Her entire demeanor changed, and she couldn't get out of here fast enough. I don't think she knows where he is, either."

"Any idea what it all means?"

Hayley glanced over her shoulder back at the computer on Kate's desk. "We'll know once our little snoopfest starts to pay off."


	6. Chapter 6: Unraveling

_**Author's Note: Posted for #CastleFanficMonday.**_

 _ **Enjoy! Reviews are love!**_

* * *

 _Somewhere…_

"I told her to stay out of this," Rita muttered as the car skidded to a halt and she emerged from the driver's side. She tore open the rear door on the driver's side, holding a pistol at Richard Castle's head. "I told her to go home, go back to her life."

Castle rose his hands on either side of himself, slowly climbing out of the car. He didn't recognize where they had stopped. Lights were few and buildings were even more scarce. He huffed a chuckle in spite of himself, a crooked grin teasing the edge of his mouth.

"Yeah, well," he said, "my wife can be pretty stubborn."

"And it will get her killed." Rita lowered her weapon with a shake of her head, staring up into the night sky. Even away from the city, she couldn't see the stars. It was an overcast night, a chilly breeze cutting through the air.

"Barked up that tree for four years," Castle said with a shrug. "Eventually learned to just… let Beckett be Beckett."

"So you're not going to fight for her?"

Castle lowered his arms and approached the woman who had claimed to be his stepmother. "You don't know me, or you wouldn't ask me that."

"This what you're doing?" Rita challenged. "This how you fight for your wife?"

"She's doing whatever she's doing because she thinks this is how to protect me," Castle argued. "Never mind the fact that for _seven years_ , we were side-by-side through everything. We faced Coonan, then Simmons, and 3XK, and we brought down Bracken –"

"Who is now dead," Rita interrupted with bite in her tone. "Solitary confinement, protective custody in a maximum-security federal prison. And they still killed him. Gutted the man who would be President like a fish. So tell me… how exactly would _you_ help on this?"

Castle opened his mouth, anger creased into his forehead, but no words came.

"I love your loyalty, Richard." Rita smirked and shook her head. "You're every bit as stubborn as she is, and you are very much your father's son. But listen to me… _she_ is in over her head on this. And if _she's_ over her head, what do you think that makes you?"

Castle's jaw clenched at the mention of his father. "Her partner."

Rita's brows shot skyward. "Oh, so you have a badge. Hm? A firearm? Official training?"

"I have her back."

"And if this were a garden-variety murder investigation, I'm sure she'd be glad to have you." Rita shook her head again before jabbing her finger into Castle's chest. "She didn't run because she doesn't trust you, Richard. She ran because it was the only way she knew to keep you safe."

"By putting the bullseye on her own back?"

Rita sighed and stared at the ground. "I'm about to ask you a very personal question, Richard, and I expect an honest answer." When the writer nodded, she folded her arms over her chest. "If Kate had told you everything that had been going on and why she was doing what she was doing… would you ask her to stop?"

"No." Castle's answer was immediate. "I would never ask Kate not to investigate a case. I would never ask her to be anything less than what she is."

"So what _would_ you do?"

"I'd ask her to let me in. Let me help."

"And you'd be signing your death certificate." Rita ran her fingers through her hair. "Dammit, boy, don't you get it?! She can't _live_ without you!"

"And I can't live without her!"

The inklings of a smirk played at Rita's lips. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have fallen in love with a broken, driven cop."

"Oh, you wanna talk about who you fall in love with?" Castle tilted his head to the side, closing what little distance remained between himself and his stepmother until he was practically towering over her. "You _really_ wanna go there?"

Rita was more amused than anything. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Where _is_ my dad?" Castle shrugged. "And how do you know he's not in on this? Hell, how do I know _you're_ not in on this? Beckett didn't run until you gave her a shove."

An open palm smacked against Castle's chin, one of Rita's nails leaving a small red mark on the skin. Castle cupped his own hand over the source of the pain before righting himself again and shaking his head.

"Jackson is not the bad guy here," Rita hissed through clenched teeth. "Neither am I."

"Then who is?"

"You've been tailing Vikram, right?" A knowing smile crept onto Rita's face. "Let's just say you're on the right track."

* * *

 _The Twelfth…_

Balancing a personal vendetta with the day-to-day minutia of running a precinct was proving far more difficult than Kate imagined. The headache jabbing into her forehead was impervious to food, caffeine, or medication, and the dull ache in her chest could only be cured by the one thing she wouldn't let herself have right now.

Because as much as she wanted to drop everything and run back to her husband's loft, she knew that was a great way to put him in the proverbial crosshairs. The last thing Kate wanted was to lose Castle, and she had to keep herself away… even if every waking moment was torture.

Made all the worse by how poorly she was sleeping.

The boys were still pretty icy toward her, only communicating when there was an update in the case they were working. Lanie refused to speak with her outright, instead giving her updates directly to the boys. Her immediate family was splintered, and in the solitude of her office, Kate wondered if maybe this was beyond repair.

The only way to know for sure was to bring down LokSat once and for all.

Then, and only then, could Kate go home.

Assuming Castle would have her.

He would, wouldn't he? He had to.

No… no, he didn't have to. Castle would be well within his rights to turn Kate away when she finally came back home, tail between her legs and longing for forgiveness in her eyes.

Her stomach clenched at the memory of the last time Castle tried to distance himself from her, anger and indifference in direct conflict with the affection and the need that had practically burst from her chest. It was entirely possible he would greet her with the same steely, emotionless gaze the next time she knocked on his door, and she shuddered at the thought.

 _Beckett, what do you want?_

 _You. I just want you_.

A knock at her office door gave Kate a momentary reprieve, but her mood soured again when she saw Vikram Singh poking his head in through the door. But she waved him in regardless, sensing by the look on his face that he had discovered something pretty important.

Vikram shut the door behind him and plopped down in the leather sofa across from Kate's desk. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated when he saw her hunched over her desk, rubbing circles over her temples.

"I can come back," he offered, "if this is a bad time."

"If you did that, you'd never come back." Kate waved her hand in front of herself. "C'mon, what do you have?"

"A contact of mine in D.C. just forwarded me security camera footage from right here in the city," Vikram explained, waving a clear CD case in his hand. "It shows Bracken's partner. We now have actual, visual evidence of the man behind LokSat."

Kate sat up a little straighter, her headache already starting to go away. "How reliable is this source?"

"I'd stake my life on them."

A visual on Senator Bracken's partner. When they were in New York. For the first time since she walked out of her husband's loft, Kate could see the proverbial finish line. She shook with excitement and adrenaline, and she did little to hide either. The sooner she could wrap this up and see what was left of her home life, the better.

"Well, come on," she said with a snap of her fingers. "Let's see it."

"I haven't watched it yet," Vikram explained as he handed Kate the disc and watched her load it into her computer. "Came to you as soon as I got my hands on it."

As soon as the disc loaded into the computer, the video player popped up on the flatscreen monitor. Kate thought the alley looked familiar, but she was a native New Yorker who had worked over a decade's worth of cases that were in allies. You've seen one alley in New York City, you've seen them all.

As the video played on, a white-haired man emerged from the bottom of the frame. He was covered in military fatigues, a semi-automatic rifle resting on his right shoulder. His face wasn't visible from this angle – until he turned to glance at something behind him.

Kate gasped when she got a look at his face.

"No…"

Vikram frowned. "What is it?"

Kate paused the video. "I know that man. That's Castle's father."

Vikram stared at the monitor, his frown deepening even more. He swallowed and shook his head; it appeared that Kate's desire to keep this entire investigation away from her husband was going to be a fruitless endeavor.

And not because of Castle's stubbornness.

Her hand shaking, Kate clicked _play_ again. The man she had met as Anderson Cross nodded over his shoulder before cradling his weapon in both hands. He was clearly pointing it _at_ someone. When the other figure walked into the frame, Kate pushed herself out of her chair and cupped her hand over her mouth again.

Now she knew why that alley had looked so familiar.

Richard Castle, wearing a brown coat, was carrying a black duffel bag. A bag that had contained 10,000 dollars. This was the same footage they had found shortly after Castle's disappearance on their wedding day, when he had apparently dropped off the money to have the SUV in which he was kidnapped destroyed.

This was clearly a longer-running version with a different camera angle, but she was watching the same thing that had happened back then. Castle checked over his shoulder and hesitated, only to have his father raise the weapon pointed at him.

With a start, Castle dumped the bag into the trash bin.

Kate stopped the video before hunching herself over the trash can beside her desk, emptying the contents of her stomach. Once she finished retching, Kate staggered back into her chair, running a shaky hand through her hair and staring at the frozen image of her husband with a semi-automatic trained at his chest.

"You're _sure_ this is related to LokSat?" she managed to ask, praying the answer was no – even though she knew it was not.

"My contact swears by their life."

"Then whoever's behind LokSat was also behind Castle's disappearance a year ago." Kate felt the sting of tears in her eyes and the burn of more bile in her throat. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the monitor. "They fed him a lie."

Vikram blinked. "What?"

"They told Castle he had been taken by the CIA to help with a covert mission involving an old friend of his." Kate squeezed her eyes shut, every impulse telling her to call her husband. "But that wasn't it at all. It was LokSat… and his dad was in on it."

"But why would LokSat kidnap your husband?"

"Because just days before his disappearance, I arrested Senator Bracken."


	7. Chapter 7: Subterfuge

_**Author's Note: Posted for #CastleFanficMonday.**_

 _ **Oh, and for those who have asked about the ring, that will be addressed in the next chapter. Stay tuned!**_

* * *

 _The Twelfth…_

The receiver of Kate Beckett's office phone was trapped between her ear and shoulder. Kate was sitting with her arms folded over her chest, swiveling back and forth in her leather chair so much so that the coiled wire connecting the receiver to the console stretched. She was exhausted, far more than she ever remembered being as a detective. Then again, she knew this was more than mere physical exhaustion.

That was part of it, no question, but two hours of sleep a night on top of being forced away from her husband was taking so much of a toll on Kate that now everyone at the precinct was keeping their distance. Case updates from the boys were now via text and email instead of poking their heads into her office or hob-knobbing at the whiteboard.

Only Vikram seemed to see Kate face-to-face with any consistency.

She was barely paying attention to the voice on the other end. She was on a conference call with One PP, outlining new NYPD policy with regards to outfitting officers with body cams. They had asked Kate her opinion earlier in the call – before two of the others on the call immediately dismissed her.

Never mind the decade and a half she had given this department in a variety of roles.

Kate was too busy staring at her mobile, the white iPhone case still on her blotter. Snatching the device and biting her lower lip – in large part to stifle a yawn – Kate's thumbs danced over the digital typepad before she set the phone down again.

 _Any movement?_

The vibration was instant.

 _None. He's annoyingly patient._

The briefest of smiles crept onto Kate's face, but it was gone almost instantly. She had little reason to smile in recent days and weeks, and she knew it was mostly her fault. She did the one thing she promised to never do, just hours after promising her husband _no more secrets_. Now, it seemed like secrets were all she had.

And Castle wasn't the only person she was hiding from.

Her thumbs went to work again.

 _Is the footage I gave you legit?_

The person she was texting answered immediately.

 _Seems like – still running my tests on it_

Before Kate had a chance to reply, her phone buzzed again.

 _If this is real, you won't be able to keep him away_

Hanging up her office line, despite the fact that the conference call hadn't yet ended, Kate pushed herself out of her chair and began to pace. Stealing a glance through the glass to the bullpen, she saw officers and detectives busy going about the business of the day, filing paperwork and working cases. Police work. True, honest police work.

No personal vendettas there. No self-imposed guilt.

The phone buzzed again.

 _Beckett?_

Snatching the device from her desk, Kate typed out a hasty reply, trying to keep her fingers from shaking.

 _That's exactly what I'm afraid of_

 _And what if Vikram gets to him first?_

Kate's thumbs hovered over the touchscreen of her iPhone, but they didn't type. Several possibilities filled her mind, and they all left Kate with a burning knot lodged in her throat. Even clearing her throat couldn't loosen it.

Movement caught Kate's eye, and she looked up in time to see a familiar redhead approaching her office. The sight of that hair and the fair skin and those blue eyes made Kate freeze. The second-to-last person she wanted to see was about to enter her office, and Kate had no idea what she was going to say.

Alexis Castle was likely coming armed with questions. And Kate had no answers.

No satisfactory ones.

 _Got a meeting – keep me posted_

Kate pocketed the phone as Alexis opened the door. When the redhead shut the door behind herself, Kate saw no anger on her face. Apprehension, perhaps. Confusion, most definitely. But none of the anger Kate expected, maybe even wanted, was there.

"Alexis," Kate greeted, cursing herself for not saying anything more.

"Kate." She might not have looked angry, but Alexis wasn't making much of an effort to look Kate in the eye. "Guess you expected me to be here sooner."

"Yeah." Kate glanced down at the desk. "Look, Alexis –"

"I get it." The redhead took two steps toward Kate, and the captain noticed that Alexis' hair had grown darker recently. Whether it was a color job or something that just happened now that Alexis was creeping deeper into adulthood, she didn't know.

"I mean," Alexis continued, "I don't _get it_ , but I figure… you wouldn't just walk out on Dad without a good reason. Whatever this is, you have your reasons and I have to remind myself to trust that."

Kate's posture straightened and she blinked. That was honestly not the reaction she expected.

"Alexis, I…" She shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"He misses you." Alexis finally let her eyes meet Kate's.

"I miss him too." Kate fought back the emotion burning in her eyes. "I'm sorry for what I've done to him. How's he coping?"

"I don't know." Alexis shrugged. "I haven't seen him in three days."

Kate's brow furrowed, and she closed whatever distance remained between herself and Alexis. The redhead had delivered that news with all the nonchalance of announcing that the Knicks had lost the night before, and yet the admission twisted in Kate's gut.

"What do you mean, three days?" Kate forced the fear out of her voice. "Where's Castle?"

"He figured out early on that whatever had you running wasn't him, so he's been doing his own poking around." There was that nonchalance again, and in hindsight, Kate should have known it would reach this point. Castle was a bright man; he would put two and two together and then do his own investigating because… well, that was who he was.

He'd poked his nose in Kate's cases for seven years now, why would this one be any different?

"Has he been in contact?"

"No." Alexis reached for the phone in her purse. "Which is actually good. No SOS, so wherever he is, he's not in trouble." A playful eyeroll. "Yet."

That actually got a smile out of Kate, even as the realization sunk in that her attempts to keep Richard Castle away from LokSat had been futile. It was obvious, now that she thought about it, and she was queasy with the realization that she had torpedoed her marriage over nothing.

Assuming they both survived, she would have so much groveling to do…

"Will you let me know?" Kate dipped her head to the side, squinting in the vain hope that Alexis wouldn't be able to tell how worried she was. The last thing she wanted was for Castle to stumble into LokSat, because then he was as good as dead, and her hair-brained scheme will have been for naught. "If you hear from him?"

Alexis gave a nod, brushing hair behind her ear and staring at the floor. "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"I'm sorry," Kate tried again. "This is not how I pictured all of this going."

Kate hadn't noticed Alexis approaching her, until she felt a hand grabbing hers. When Kate looked up, she frowned in confusion – because surely, Alexis would take it out on her. Surely, Alexis would be upset over Kate hurting her father yet again. That was Kate deserved, wasn't it? And yet… the redhead looked anything but angry.

"It sucks," Alexis offered. "And I guess I should be mad, but… something tells me this is bigger than the two of you."

Kate pulled Alexis into a light hug, closing her eyes. She didn't deserve forgiveness like this, but Kate would be lying if she didn't admit a small weight being lifted off her shoulders now that she had it. Her husband forgiving her was another story, but they needed to survive this ordeal for that to even come up.

Pulling out of the hug, Kate gave a hesitant smile. "Thank you, Alexis."

"Just…" Alexis paused, pursing her lips. "Just bring down whoever you're chasing, then come home. Dad's not the only one who misses you."

Watching Alexis walk out of her office, and simultaneously stunned and glad for the support, Kate fished the phone out of her pocket. Her thumbs were once again a blur over the touchscreen, sending one more text to the person she had been in contact with just minutes earlier.

 _Castle's poking around on his own_

Again, the reply was instant.

 _Oh, bloody hell…_

* * *

 _Somewhere…_

"Your father looked for you, you know."

Castle was leaning up against the window, his eyes peering out into a street he didn't recognize. The windows had been blacked out once before, but now the dark covering was uneven and there were clear streaks all along the glass. Rita's voice didn't register at first, but once it did – and he realized just what she was referring to – Castle clenched his jaw and pushed off the window.

"Did he." Castle stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Must not have looked that hard."

Rita quirked a brow. "Meaning?"

"I was gone for two months." Castle gave a one-shoulder shrug. "You mean to tell me a man of his skill set and resources couldn't find me in sixty days?"

Castle's disappearance wasn't necessarily a sore spot these days, but he would have to occasionally admit that he was still bothered by the fact that so much of that time was still a blank. He had been offered an explanation for two weeks of that time, but the rest of it was still just a blank slate in the recesses of his mind.

But Castle was already emotionally frayed, chasing after his wife to see what would possess her to walk out on him the way she did. Finding himself face-to-face with a stepmother he never knew he had – if that part of Rita's story was actually true – only added to the absurdity of the moment.

He knew Kate was off investigating something on her own, after Rita's repeated warnings not to do so… and now that Castle thought about it, why would Rita bring up his disappearance?

"There something you know that I don't?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Strange time to be bringing up my disappearance," Castle countered, closing the distance between himself and Rita. Cocking his head to the side, Castle felt his jaw clench. "I'm trying to find my wife, to pull her back from the brink before she dives head-first into the rabbit hole, and here you dangle that little carrot in front of my face?"

"Did it ever occur to you the two things might be linked?"

Castle blinked, taken aback. As much as he enjoyed a good outlandish theory, as much as he liked playing around with plot twists, he didn't necessarily like the idea of them being centered around him. He shook his head and unclenched his fists.

"Up until two weeks ago, I'd never even heard of LokSat," he said. "Up until two weeks ago, I always assumed Bracken was a lone wolf. Up until two weeks ago, I thought Beckett would never push me aside and jump down the rabbit hole again. So to be perfectly honest, I don't know what to think right now."

"C'mon," Rita said, tossing a thumb over her shoulder. "There's something you need to see."

Castle did follow, though the crease in his forehead deepened.

"What happened to 'back off'?"

"You're in too deep now," Rita explained once they crossed into a darker room, illuminated only by the glow of three flatscreen monitors. The largest monitor, located in the center of a large wooden desk, was the one Rita was after. She leaned over the desk and her fingers danced over the black keyboard. "You're safer here with me."

"You'll forgive me if I doubt that."

"Watch." Rita stood, pressing the _Enter_ key. They watched a sun-baked alley somewhere in New York. Castle's hands clenched into fists again once he saw his father appear in the bottom of the frame, a semi-automatic weapon clutched in his hands. But the churn of anger in Castle's gut paled in comparison to the shock he felt when he saw himself walk into the frame.

Wearing a brown coat, Castle had crossed over to a dumpster and tossed a duffel bag full of money into it. The whole time, his father was holding him at gunpoint. The shock and the anger eventually began to mix, until Castle's hands were so tightly coiled that his arms were shaking.

"Keep watching," Rita said, casting a sideways glance at Castle.

Another figure emerged from the bottom of the frame, this one pointing a gun into the small of Jackson Hunt's back. When the barrel of the weapon pressed into Hunt's shirt, he tightened his grip on his weapon and raised it. Castle glanced toward his father, hesitating before walking away from the dumpster.

At which point, Rita stopped the video feed.

"Still doubt me?" she asked.

"Who's that holding a gun at my father?" Castle asked, because of all the questions he had, that was the one that managed to spill from his lips first.

"Intel suggests that's Vikram Singh."

Castle's frown deepened. "Vikram was behind my disappearance?"

"Among other things." Rita tapped a few more keys, and the video feed zoomed in on the back of Vikram's head. "If my intel is correct, you're looking at Senator Bracken's partner."

* * *

 _The Twelfth…_

With the clock reading 2:52 a.m., Kate was the only one left in the building. Even the cleaning staff and maintenance crews had taken off for the night. The bags under her eyes begged for Kate to sleep, but she refused. Even as she studied the files in front of her to the point that her eyesight blurred, Kate would not rest.

Mostly because that meant sleeping on the couch across from the desk. The couch was horrible on her back, and it lacked the warmth and security of her bed… but she couldn't go back there. Not now. Not after everything she had done.

And certainly not without her husband there beside her.

Sighing and rubbing circles over her temples, Kate almost didn't notice her phone vibrating against the blotter. With a slight frown, Kate flipped the device over in her hand, and her heart skipped a beat when she read the text:

 _Vikram on the move – what do we do now?_


	8. Chapter 8: Jigsaw

_**Author's Note: And thus, the mystery of the ring is revealed! Only to replaced with other mysteries... enjoy!**_

* * *

 _The night Kate left…_

The resolve Kate steeled herself with outside of her husband's loft lasted until she got back to her car. As soon as her fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, the determination began to melt away – and the tears she had swallowed back upstairs were threatening to make another appearance. She sucked in a ragged breath, stealing a glance at herself in the rearview mirror.

She flicked her gaze away almost as soon as she caught sight of herself. Kate couldn't look at herself; instead, she snatched her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her recent calls before finding the number she was looking for.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Kate jumped when the call connected. She hadn't expected the other end to pick up on the second ring.

" _Hello?_ "

"Uh, hi," Kate swallowed, unsure of everything about this. "This is Captain Beckett."

" _Kate?_ "

"Yeah… listen, Hayley, I need some help."

There was an unnerving silence on the other end, and Kate found herself gripping the phone far tighter than intended. She forced herself to loosen her grip, staring into the driver's side mirror and trying to calm her breathing. Nothing about this was right, and the sooner she brought down whoever was behind… well, _everything_ … the better she would feel.

At least, that was the plan.

" _What do you need?_ "

"LokSat," Kate answered. "I need to deal with them, once and for all."

The silence returned, and for a moment, Kate wondered if Hayley was going to hang up on her. To this point, anyone who had even heard the name LokSat had wound up dead, so if Hayley were to end the call and run to the other side of the world, Kate wasn't so sure she could blame her. After all, that was the whole reason she had just torpedoed her marriage.

Richard Castle hating her was an acceptable option, so long as Richard Castle was alive to make that determination. Kate Beckett was not about to lose someone else to this conspiracy.

" _Where are you?_ "

"Just outside my building."

" _This is a conversation we're better off having in-person. We should meet in your office._ "

* * *

 _Kate's office…_

As soon as Hayley set foot into Kate Beckett's office, a veritable fishbowl with a view of the Twelfth Precinct's homicide floor, she knew something was off. Not just because she was having a clandestine meeting with a police captain well after normal business hours, and not just because the captain in question was sitting in her office in the dark.

The moonlight spilling in from the blinds gave Kate a harsh look, one exacerbated by the locks of hair framing her face. Were it not for the squeak of the chair, Hayley might be convinced she was alone in the office.

But most disconcerting of all was who _wasn't_ here.

"Oh, this is Bruce Wayne-level brooding," Hayley joked as she shut the door behind herself. "This must be serious."

"Lock the door."

Hayley frowned, reaching behind herself to click the lock – despite the fact that they were the only ones on this floor. Even the custodial staff had moved on for the night. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her leather coat, Hayley stepped toward the desk, the crease in her brow deepening with each moment that passed without Kate explaining herself.

It wasn't until Hayley reached the chair across from Kate's desk that the captain began speaking.

"Hyde was a scapegoat," she explained in a hoarse voice. "A loose end tied up with a bow so we'd all stop investigating."

"But you're not stopping."

"I can't." The chair squeaked again. "Whoever's behind this killed five federal agents. They killed a former Senator who was in protective custody in a federal prison. They almost killed me."

"I remember," Hayley replied. "I was there."

"I can't do this alone," Kate added. "I need someone with a particular expertise."

Hayley arched a brow. "Is that why your husband's not here?"

Silence filled the office again, and Kate ducked her head. She then turned to stare out the window briefly, before pushing herself out of her chair and crossing over to the other side of the desk. The captain folded her arms across her chest and chewed on her lower lip; Hayley thought she saw a tear streak running down Kate's left cheek, but she couldn't be sure.

"Rick can't be a part of this," Kate struggled to say. "I can't let them get to him."

"But I'm expendable?" It was a joke, and Hayley was even careful to make sure the tone of her voice conveyed that, but Kate wasn't laughing.

"Vikram Singh."

Hayley blinked and took another step forward. "You think he's involved."

"I think his story's a little too neat." Kate reached back to her desk, grabbing a manila folder and handing it to Hayley. "He's been with the AG team for all of two months when he stumbles upon the search I ran on Bracken? Then the entire team _except him_ winds up dead, and I'm the first person he thinks to call?"

Hayley flipped open the folder and sifted through its contents. "You think he's playing you."

"I think he needs to convince me he's not." Stepping more into the moonlight, Kate straightened her posture. "I'm gonna work with him on this case, use whatever resources he can provide and maybe even pick up a hint or two about his involvement."

"And what do you want from me?"

"I need to track him whenever we're not sneaking around investigating. I want to know his every movement, 24-7."

"And you can't use police resources for this."

"Not exactly."

"Well, there is one thing," Hayley said, reaching into her left pocket before producing something that looked like a contact lens, only much smaller. In the dark office, it was almost impossible to see on the tip of her finger, and Kate had to squint in order to find it.

"Tracking beacon?"

"State-of-the-art," Hayley confirmed. "Just… don't ask how I got it. Find a way to get this on Vikram, and we can track him day or night."

Kate chewed on her lip, staring at the tiny sphere on the tip of Hayley's finger. She gently took it into her own hand, and if she wasn't looking right at it, she could have sworn that there was nothing on her finger. She would have to be incredibly careful to make sure she didn't lost this thing.

"Just… promise me something," Kate said. "Not a word of this to Castle."

* * *

 _The night Kate punched Vikram…_

Even as she slammed the car door shut and gripped the steering wheel tight enough that her knuckles turned white, Kate bit her lower lip and fought back the tears that were desperate to fall. She hated what she had just done. Not the part where she socked Vikram in the face – she had actually wanted to do that for a while, even if it was just because she needed an outlet for her hurt and anger.

And she supposed the good news was that the tracking beacon Hayley had given her was now on Vikram's person. With any luck, that would provide the answers Kate was searching for – and if she was _really_ lucky, she would get the beacon back.

Sucking in a deep breath, willing the tears not to fall, she reached for her phone.

"It's me," she said when the call connected. "The beacon's in play."

" _And how did you manage that?_ "

 _Oh, no big deal… just slipped it on the inside of my wedding ring and let Vikram yank it off my finger…_

"Let's just say the charade of me and Castle being separated is now more convincing."

" _I sincerely hope you know what you're doing_."

"Yeah." Kate closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat with a weary sigh. "Yeah, so do I."

" _Tomorrow, I'll install the software onto your computer so you can track Vikram even while you're at your day job._ "

"Let's just…" Kate stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Let's just get this done."

* * *

 _Present day…_

Each day that passed with Kate Beckett's ring finger bare was another day that went by with little sleep. The bags under her eyes were getting to the point where makeup could barely cover them, and it was only a matter of time before someone either at the Twelfth or One PP would notice. Then again, if the boys noticed, would they say anything? They weren't exactly on speaking terms with Kate lately, since she walked out on Castle and barely offered anything resembling an explanation.

Alexis' words from earlier that day still rang in Kate's head. The knowledge that Castle had figured things out and had started poking around… it surprised her, even though she knew logically that it shouldn't.

This was so not how things were supposed to go. Being captain of the Twelfth was supposed to be the calming influence her life needed. More stable hours, which meant she could go home – to her husband – every night. They could begin to talk about starting a family, now that she wasn't on the street risking herself over and over again.

Now she was deep down the rabbit hole. Again. And who knew if there would still be a husband waiting for her when this was all over. Richard Castle was the most patient and understanding man she had ever met, but even he had his limits.

What would happen if Kate exhausted them?

Vikram's tip about Vulcan Simmons' drug ring hadn't yet panned out, and the longer that dragged on, the more upset and frustrated she became.

Little did Kate realize that Hayley came bearing even worse news.

"Hayley," she said when the other woman pushed into her office, shutting and locking the door. "What's going on?"

"We have a problem."

Kate felt her heart leap into her throat – or maybe that was breakfast threatening to make a return visit. Squeezing her hands into fists so her fingers wouldn't shake, Kate swallowed back the bile that was tickling her throat, trying to steel her face and not let Hayley see the dread she felt in the pit of her stomach.

Even without Hayley saying anything, Kate knew.

Even knowing, the words still acted like a kick to the stomach.

"Castle's been poking around on his own," Hayley explained. "And he's with Rita."

The mention of the woman who claimed to be Castle's stepmother was as alarming as the fact that he was pursuing things on his own – probably more so, since Kate already knew what Castle was doing. Fact was, Rita's advice – if it could be called that – was what stirred things into motion in the first place, and Kate's stomach churned at the thought of those two in cahoots.

Assuming Rita was who she said she was. On occasion, Kate had her doubts.

"What?"

"Your husband's a smart man," Hayley said. "It didn't take him long to figure out that whatever had you running from him wasn't actually him."

Oh, Castle. Brilliant, dumb, meddlesome Castle…

In hindsight, Kate should've known this was a possibility. Not only was her husband incredibly bright – far more than most would give him credit for – but he was incredibly tenacious. She should've known pushing him out would only make him poke the proverbial dead body even more. Of course he would want answers… and now that he had his own resources as a private investigator…

Kate's idea of keeping him in the dark was looking worse and worse by the day.

"This can't…" Kate stopped, cupping her hand over her mouth and shaking her head. "Hayley, this is exactly what I wanted to avoid."

"Then perhaps you should've left LokSat alone."

"I can't." The words felt like acid on Kate's tongue. "I just… I can't. I can't just sit back and let more people die."

Hayley arched a brow. "And what if you're next?"

"Better me than Castle."

"Don't you think that should be his call?" Hayley shook her head. "Look, I don't know either of you that well, but I know him well enough to know that when it comes to you, there's nothing he won't do."

"Which is exactly why I had to leave."

"And look at how well that worked."

Kate ducked her head, knowing full well Hayley was right. Alexis' admission to her father's doings hadn't truly sunk in until now, almost as if Kate had actively repressed the thought of it. The quicker she worked, the sooner she could bring down LokSat. The sooner she brought down LokSat, the sooner she could go home.

Or not.

But at least in that scenario, Richard Castle was alive to make that choice. The alternative was unacceptable.

She caught sight of her bare ring finger again, pursing her lips and shaking her head. Emotion burned at the edges of her eyes, but Kate wasn't going to let it show. Not here, not in front of Hayley. The pity party could wait until Kate was completely alone; right now, she just needed to get things done.

"Then I suggest we find out Vikram's up to."

Hayley smirked. "What about Rita?"

In spite of the turmoil she felt, Kate let herself smile a little. "I'll take care of that."


End file.
